


Alive

by darkness173



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Top!Desmond, bottom!clay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 16:56:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4067542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkness173/pseuds/darkness173
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desmond is confused and desperate, Sixteen has been dead for too long and doesn't remember a thing. Trying to feel something akin to alive again, they take a bath in Animus Island's sea and get it going. SLASH PWP, smug!Desmond x angsty!Sixteen, kinda AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Man this piece is freaking old. I intended to upload it to ff.net time ago, but then that mature stuff drama happed. Don't ask me.

**Uhm... Hi x)**

**So I was really bored once (and maybe a bit horny or something) and wrote a short PWP starring Desmond and Subject 16. It's kinda AU. English isn't my first language so I'm really sorry if there are some mistakes. Hope you can enjoy this freaky piece of senseless smut... lol**

**I own nothing at all and it's rated M because it's a PWP - duh!**

**Oh and in case you didn't get it yet: This is slash. The Desmond/Subject 16 kind of slash.** **So if you hate this stuff don't read it.**

* * *

 

**Alive**

"Are you… dead?"

"I… don't have a body anymore… outside of the Animus, that is."

"… Am I… am I dead?"

"… I don't know. Maybe… maybe you are. But you haven't been here for a long time… so maybe you aren't…"

"How long have _you_ been here?"

"… I can't remember… too long."

Desmond nods understandingly. He shifts, stretches his legs until his feet almost reach the wet sand in front of him. He lets his eyes wander off, over the endless sea, and tries to imagine what it would be like to be there for real – if this wasn't all just a reproduction of Sixteen's mind. It wouldn't be much different, he decides. The same warm feeling on his skin, the same calming sound of the waves and the occasional cry of a seagull. Even the smell of salt is there. The sand, too, feels warm and grainy under his hands. The only difference is that in the real world, Desmond would feel alive, while here…

He feels _dead_. Desmond feels dead and Sixteen is nothing more than a _corpse_ , as well. He is there, sitting on a rock, a few meters away from Desmond, but it's like he isn't there. His skin is grayish – and sometimes he flickers, as if he's having trouble keeping himself intact. He's just data. Nothing more, nothing less. He doesn't have a body anymore. Do ghosts exist? Because Desmond can't tell if what he sees in front of him has the right to be called a ghost. It's just… _data_. A memory. A few numbers that have been saved up inside the Animus for a long time.

"I'm alive," Sixteen suddenly says, as if he had been hearing Desmond's thoughts all along. "I'm alive, can't you tell? Inside here I'm just like I used to be outside."

"No, you aren't." Desmond can't help himself. He is confused, scared. He doesn't want to be there anymore. How long has he been there? Ten Minutes? An hour? Three? A day? A week? "Come here," he suddenly orders.

Sixteen looks up, sheepishly. He doesn't move until Desmond repeats his order, a bit harsher than before, then Sixteen stands up and steps over to Desmond. Desmond grabs his hand, pulls him down beside him. They sit shoulder to shoulder and Desmond doesn't let go of Sixteen's hand.

"Can you feel my hand?" he asks. Sixteen glances at their joined hands, then at Desmond's face. He stares down at his denim jeans and looks overly confused, almost a little offended.

"Of course I can feel it," he answers dryly.

Desmond grins slightly and strokes Sixteen's hand with his thumb.

"So, how does it feel then? When I'm holding it like this?"

It takes some time for Sixteen to answer. He sits motionless besides Desmond, the hand latter is holding, is limp. Sixteen doesn't try to pull it back, but neither does he reciprocate the gentle pressure.

"It feels warm," he says, practically radiating awkwardness. "And soft."

"So?" Desmond whispers, edging closer to the other man. He lifts his free hand and places it on Sixteen's thigh. He can feel the muscle twitch lightly and wonders if he's making Sixteen nervous. Slowly, he moves the hand, up and down Sixteen's leg and sometimes he brushes his crotch with his fingers, but Sixteen doesn't move.

"Can you remember this feeling, too?" Desmond breathes onto Sixteen's neck and Sixteen shudders lightly. He doesn't reply. His eyes have widened and he's panting a little. Desmond wonders if he has upset him. The hand he's holding is clenching around his and trembling lightly.

"Stop," Sixteen pleads softly.

"Why?" Desmond inquires.

"Because…"

Desmond stops. He pulls back the hand, which had been caressing Sixteen's bulge and lets go of his hand.

The silence is oppressing for some minutes.

"Have you ever taken a bath here?" Desmond wants to know after a while.

"No," Sixteen answers. He seems to be feeling very uncomfortable.

"Wanna try?"

"N-no."

Desmond stands up, takes a few steps backwards and stares at Sixteen provocatively. He unclasps his bracer and drops it to the ground. He pulls the zipper of his black hoodie down and lets the clothing glide down his shoulders. Then he takes his shirt off and watches Sixteen's reaction. Sixteen isn't watching. He's playing with the sand beside him, scooping it up his hand and letting it rinse down again. It makes Desmond angry. He takes his shoes, jeans and boxer shorts off and then approaches Sixteen once more.

"Come," he orders, just like before.

Sixteen looks up, finds himself facing Desmond's half-erect cock and inhales sharply. Something akin to a blush spreads over his face and Desmond grins pleased. He helps getting Sixteen on his feet, supporting him by his upper arms. His touch lingers – he lets his hands sneak upwards until they're cupping Sixteen's nape. Desmond's plays with Sixteen's blonde strays and steps closer to him.

"Come on," he breathes on Sixteen's cheek and Sixteen kind of breaks – grasps Desmond naked body desperately. He doesn't fight back, when Desmond brushes his green jacket off. He helps Sixteen take off his t-shirt and is surprised when Sixteen takes off his shoes, pants and underwear on his own.

They advance towards the water, slowly. Desmond is the first to go in and the water is cold, but not unpleasantly so. He goes further into the blue mass and pulls Sixteen with him.

"Isn't this great?" he grins.

Sixteen's fair skin is bright against Desmond's darker one and their limbs tangle as they hold, grasp, grope, claw at each other.

"It's cold," Sixteen pants. His face is flushed and Desmond can feel his cock against his lower abdomen and he loves the feeling of it. He reaches down and encloses his hand around Sixteen's shaft and feels it pulsing and radiating warmth. Sixteen gasps and grabs Desmond hand, but he seems to be unsure whether he should pull it away or not.

"Doesn't it feel good? When I touch you like this?" Desmond asks, voice bittersweet.

"I d-don't know… It's strange…"

"Have you ever done this before?"

"I can't… remember…"

Desmond smiles, starts moving his hand up and down Sixteen's by now hard cock. He pulls him closer, until their bodies are touching everywhere and includes his own cock in the ministrations of his hand. Sixteen seems to like the feeling of Desmond's cock against his own, as he groans lowly and deepens his fingernails in Desmond's hips. He looks beautiful – without that grayish skin tone. He looks beautiful, with a rosy taint, half-lidded, blue eyes and his mouth slightly ajar. Desmond can feel the waves slap gently against his back and they push him against Sixteen, making their bodies rock together.

Suddenly, they're lying on the wet sand, waves occasionally washing over them, but neither of them seems to care.

"Do you remember what it is like to kiss?" Desmond asks, his dick rubbing up and down Sixteen's inner side of his thigh.

"No," Sixteen admits. Desmond moans softly, pushes him against the ground and takes possession of his mouth. Sixteen doesn't taste of anything, but his tongue his warm and velvety against his own. Desmond whimpers, squeezes his eyes shut and reaches down to fondle them both. Sixteen pushes up against him and groans as well, deeply and wantonly.

"You're beautiful like this, Sixteen. You're beautiful when you're acting like a fucking human being," Desmond whispers a hint of cynicism in his voice.

"I'm not… my name's not…" Sixteen tries, but Desmond ravages his lips again, shoves his tongue deeply into his mouth. It's a wet and sloppy kiss, but it suits the situation, suits the primitive hunger they are both feeling.

"Have you ever fucked a man, Sixteen? Or been fucked by one?"

Desmond doesn't wait for an answer. He rubs the tip of his cock against Sixteen's crack and feels the other stiffen. He stops himself from just pushing in and fuck the tightness he knows, Sixteen must have been preserving. Instead he lets his tongue glide down Sixteen's neck, along his clavicle and down his chest, just to stop by a nipple and suckle on it, bite it gently.

"O-oh," Sixteen gasps. "Ngh…"

The little nub is red and raw by the time Desmond finally leaves it alone. Sixteen lies on the ground, sand sticking to his body and he is flushed and aroused and just what Desmond needs. His cock twitches lightly at the sight and then he continues to kiss a way down Sixteen's body, dips his tongue into his navel and lets it swirl there. Then he sinks lower… lower… He fists Sixteen's dripping cock and gathers up the juices with his tongue, swallows eagerly. He encloses his mouth around the head of Sixteen's cock and Sixteen cries out, digs his fingers into the sand. Desmond sucks, then lets his tongue circle around the head, lets it slide down the shaft, then swallows the head again. And then he sinks – swallows the whole thing, sucks, sucks harder, pulls back up and slips back down again. Sixteen's thighs are strangling him, trying to pull him closer and forbidding him to go away. Sixteen's hands are in Desmond's hair and pulling. Desmond sucks him off, but doesn't allow him to come. He lets the almost purple cock slide out of his mouth, precome and saliva dripping down the corner of his mouth and strokes his own dick.

"Are you ready, Sixteen?"

Sixteen whimpers, but wantonly spreads his legs, widely. Desmond sees his little, rosy hole and swallows heavily. He grabs Sixteen's thighs, pushes them back until they are flat against his chest and then he spits on Sixteen's entrance, watches the saliva drip down his crack. Desmond's cock hurts, it's so hard. He aligns himself, pushes against the tender ring until it swallows the head of his cock. Desmond gasps, sees sparkles of pleasure. Sixteen gasps, too, tenses lightly. But Desmond doesn't stop. He pushes further in, until his whole cock is inside Sixteen, and groans loudly.

"Fuck, Sixteen… this is so fucking hot. So fucking tight…"

He releases Sixteen's legs, which fall limply at his sides and then braces himself against the ground, starts pounding experimentally into the heat.

"Fuck… fuck," he curses dirtily. "Fuck, Sixteen."

Desmond thrusts into Sixteen, over and over again and Sixteen legs curl around his midsection, suddenly pulling him closer and deeper into himself. He cups Desmond's face and crushes their mouths together a concert of moans, groans and whimpers erupting in the back of their throats as their bodies move together, rock against each other. Desmond's hand finds Sixteen's cock and jerks it in time with his thrusts.

It doesn't take long for Sixteen to spill himself over his stomach. Desmond continues to stab his prostrate all the same, moves against the creamy substance on Sixteen's stomach, smearing it all over his own.

And then he whimpers and comes, deep inside Sixteen.

"Fuck…"

He doesn't pull out of him. He collapses on his hot body instead and is surprised, when arms encircle him and keep him close. They let their breathing even out, their hearts pounding. Then they come to themselves; Desmond slowly pulls out of Sixteen's abused hole, a trail of come following the tip of his cock out of the dark cavern.

"Alive…" Sixteen mutters.

"Yeah," Desmond agrees. "Alive… that felt pretty real."

They lie next to each other, Desmond using an arm as a cushion and caressing his chest with his free hand. Sixteen just lies there for a while, but eventually turns around, scooting closer to Desmond. He reaches downwards and massages Desmond softened cock until it stirs back to life again.

"What are you doing, Sixteen?" Desmond asks, staring lazily down at his cock.

"My name is not fucking Sixteen," Sixteen answers. "It's Clay.”

Desmond is taken aback for some seconds, but grins afterwards.

“Glad you’re starting to get it.”

* * *

 

**Yeah I hope reading this wasn't too much of a waste of time. xD**

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr [darkness173](http://www.darkness173.tumblr.com/) or [reflections173](http://www.reflections173.tumblr.com/) ♥


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